The ties that bind us part 2

XIII

Anger bubbled within Draco until Potter grinned widely, and what sounded like an insult was suddenly transformed into a flirty joke. That pleasant feeling assaulted Draco's insides again and he found himself thinking that Potter looked quite handsome when he was smiling.

He tried to push the thought away, but instead it pushed him closer to Potter, making him press their lips together.

"If there's anyone here who will get fucked, it's you, Potter," he murmured before kissing Potter soundly. His hands slid down Potter's back, pulling him closer before they slid even lower toward Potter's buttocks, cupping them firmly. The movement stretched the rope and Potter was forced to throw his head back with a gasp. The kiss broke, but Draco had nothing against nibbling the skin of Potter's neck.

"Okay," Potter whispered.

"Mmm, it's more than okay," Draco agreed mindlessly. "It's brilliant," he claimed as he pressed his lips to that inviting spot below Potter's ear, his nostrils filling with Potter's scent and his taste buds exploding in delight.

"I meant, I meant . . ." Potter panted, fisting Draco's shirt and pushing his arse backward into Draco's squeezing hands. "I meant, okay, you can top."

Draco's eyes flew open and he froze with his lips pressed snuggly to Potter's neck. He lifted his head slowly, raising his right hand so Potter could straighten. Potter looked at him, his eyes dark and filled with arousal, though he looked worried, underneath.

"Now?" Draco asked, sure that was an odd question, but it slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

Potter's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "If you're up for it." He glanced down at Draco's spent cock.

"Give me five minutes," Draco said quickly and then thought about it some more. "Fifteen," he confessed. He stared at his cock, hardly believing that he had agreed to do it. The thought of that kind of sex always seemed disgusting, even with girls, never mind males. And yet, somehow, the only problem Draco could think of right now was the appearance of some unforeseen obstacle that would prevent him having sex with Potter. The thought of it actually happening seemed impossible.

"We need lube," Potter said.

Draco's gaze snapped back to Potter's eyes. "Lube?"

"Lubrication? To make it easier for you to—"

"I know what it is and what it's for," Draco snapped. "We'll just Conjure — oh."

Potter nodded grimly. "No wands."

There it was — an obstacle. Misery overwhelmed Draco. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to —"

"Forget it. No lube, no sex," Potter said firmly.

Draco pouted. "Fuck."

"Apparently not." Potter looked miserable, as well, and he reached for the rope around his neck, as though no fucking meant it was time for him to try and free himself.

Draco didn't feel like helping, so he just stared as Potter struggled with the ropes. The wrist of his left hand was still bruised and injured, and Draco opened his mouth to suggest the use of the Healing Salve, but instead, he ended up laughing at himself. He should have thought of it immediately.

"We can use that." Draco pointed at the small vial on the teacher's desk.

Potter turned to look at it and then he stared at Draco doubtfully. "That's for external use. And it's a Healing Salve."

"Don't be daft, Potter," Draco scoffed. "Healing Salve is just liquid when it has nothing to heal. I used to use it for wanking all the time before we learned Conjuring Charms."

Potter licked his lips as though he was considering Draco's words carefully. "That's still external use," he said finally, his voice a bit rough.

Draco wondered if Potter had imagined him wanking, and he blushed a little at the thought.

"It's fine, Potter. Honestly," Draco said. He wasn't lying, either. There were times when he had wanked in his bed and his salve-slicked fingers slipped lower, behind his balls, exploring, pushing, and probing with no undesired side effects. Unless one counted having a spectacular orgasm during that act an undesired side effect. But it wasn't gay if one played with one's own arse, surely. Draco decided to omit that piece of information, nonetheless. "I'm a potion expert. I know these things."

Potter still looked doubtful. "An expert, are you? Oh, you're just full of various talents. Or useless words."

"I'm not lying," Draco said, a bit desperately. It wasn't fair. Potter dangled fucking in front of him, and now when Draco warmed up to the idea he wanted to take it away. Potter stared at him. Draco sighed. "I'm not lying this time. I swear."

Potter smiled a little. "All right. I believe you."

And there was that feeling again, in the pit of Draco's stomach, warming him, lifting him, making his heart beat faster. Draco quickly ran through the Healing Salve's ingredients in his mind, afraid that he had forgotten something and it would cause him to lose the trust Potter had just given him. But he was positive that the salve wouldn't hurt Potter in the slightest; if anything it would soothe the burn not cause it.

Potter grabbed Draco's thigh and his wrist, stood up and yanked Draco's arm upwards. Draco rose out of the chair, but only after he took a moment to stare at Potter's fully hard cock that jutted out of his parted trousers. He nearly stumbled as Potter pulled him toward the teacher's desk, and that was bloody annoying because Draco should have dragged Potter there, not the other way around. Potter was the one on the leash.

As soon as they reached the desk, Draco grabbed the vial and uncorked it.

"Slow down, you maniac," Potter said, sounding half-amused and half-worried. He cleared his throat nervously as Draco smeared some liquid over his fingers. "We haven't thought this through. McGonagall could show up at any moment. And if she catches us — Ow, what are you doing?" Potter cried as Draco grabbed his left forearm and then gently smeared the salve over Potter's injured wrist.

"Oh, don't worry, Potter," Draco said as the salve worked its magic and healed Potter's skin. "McGonagall forced us to hug and she left us lube. I think she wants us to have sex."

Draco grinned at Potter, expecting to receive a grin in return, because his statement was bloody hilarious, but Potter wasn't looking at him; he was staring at his healed wrist. When Potter did look at him, his green eyes were filled with wonder and some warm emotion that made Draco's pulse race.

Draco looked at Potter's wrist and bit his lips. "No, I just . . ." he said, then paused, not knowing what to say; Potter had clearly made some girly conclusion about Draco's sudden wish to heal his wounds, but Draco only healed him because . . . because . . . Well, he didn't even know why. It just seemed logical at the time. It wasn't a conscious decision. "It was just ugly, that's all. I've wanted to do that for an hour."

Potter's eyes widened and Draco groaned inwardly. What was wrong with his mouth? He constantly said the craziest things. Draco yelped as Potter lunged at him, grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close for a fervent kiss. A kiss that made Draco's toes curl and his knees buckle, and that left him swaying even after Potter pulled away.

"Well, I would have done it sooner if I knew that was the reward," Draco said, this time not even regretting that his disobedient mouth said something stupid again. Potter was smiling at him happily and that was the only important thing in that moment. Well, that and impending sex, obviously. "You haven't changed your mind, have you?" Draco asked worriedly. "Because of McGonagall?"

Potter shook his head with that warm emotion still present in his eyes. "No."

"Good." Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at Potter and took two steps back, extending the rope that bound him to Potter's neck. He stared his fill, feasting on the sight of Potter's cock, the dark hair above it, the bare chest expanding as Potter breathed, the rope around Potter's neck and Potter's flushed face. "Well then," Draco said, trying not to sound nervous. "Strip